


Costumes

by bactaqueen



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve dress up for a costume party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Costumes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. No profit is earned and no infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: The punchline is the entire reason for the ficlet.

Steve checked his hair in the hall mirror, smoothing it back from his face one more time with both hands and using the pomade that came off on his fingers to twist the ends of the mustache so they poked straight up. He’d dyed his hair black just for this, but the mustache was fake. It was a really good fake, though. He turned his face side to side, admiring his reflection. Dalí was iconic and Steve thought he’d pulled him off pretty well.

“Come on, Bucky, we’re going to be late!”

“Keep your pants on.” Bucky stomped out of the bedroom, snagging his jacket off the back of an armchair.

Steve glanced at him and frowned. “Where’s your costume?”

Bucky shrugged into his jacket and flipped his hair out of the collar. “I’m wearing it.”

Steve looked him over pointedly. Bucky didn’t look any different than usual. Same boots, same slim-fit jeans, same soft-looking “vintage” t-shirt, and that battered, well-loved leather jacket he never seemed to leave home without. He was pulling his hair back into a messy bun when Steve met his eyes.

“Okay, I give. Are you supposed to be an undercover brainwashed assassin or something?”

Bucky made a face at him. He held up his left hand, the metal glinting in the living room light. Only there was something odd about the glint, and when Steve looked, he noticed the bright yellow-gold band on his ring finger.

Steve frowned.

Bucky sighed. “I’m  _Buck Rogers_. Get it?”


End file.
